


A Twisted Tail

by AshJuillet



Series: Challenges [44]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Cinderella Elements, F/M, Red Riding Hood Elements, Twisted, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29721921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshJuillet/pseuds/AshJuillet
Summary: She still needed love and affection, and most of all, acceptance. All her books had happy endings, so why couldn't she? She'd been denied these things for so long that she didn't even remember feeling any positive emotions. In the middle of the forest, Hermione meets a wolf who not only saves her but also just might give her a happy-ever-after.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fenrir Greyback
Series: Challenges [44]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2108157
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	A Twisted Tail

The carriage trailed down the town road, over the field and up towards the castle on the hill. The sun was setting over the plains, a pair of rabbits hopped off to their burrow, and even a duck or two flew overhead. Hermione was mesmerised by the beauty of the countryside, her heart longing to explore the hilly terrains and beyond. 

When they reached the castle, Hermione frowned when people whispered and stared at her with wide eyes. She realised they could see the scars on her face, her shoulders fell a little bit, but she kept her head up. 

Hermione entered the majestic ballroom through the golden doors, she walked around, gazing at the glorious sights in front of her: large windows overlooking the vast grounds, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, golden tapestries depicting the history of the Royal Family, beautiful flowers adorning the walls, and the moon shining down brightly upon the stream nearby.

She was in absolute awe when she bumped into someone standing nearby. “Oh, excuse me, sir!” she exclaimed, a bit embarrassed. 

“It’s all right, madam,” the redhead said. Hermione smiled shyly and introduced herself. The man bowed over her hand, kissing it politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lady.” 

A waiter walked over, bowed, and offered the man some wine. “Would you like some, Miss Granger?” the man asked her nonchalantly. Hermione shook her head but thanked him. “Please excuse me, my lady. I have duties I must attend to.” He walked away from her before she could excuse him. 

Hermione was taken aback by his sudden retreat.

As the music began, the men asked their women counterparts to dance with them. Hermione felt a sting of rejection when a few men glanced at her but quickly looked away. Her stepmother waltzed by with an older man, and her stepsisters danced with handsome young men, but no one came over to her.

Prince Ronald—the same redhead who’d spoken to her—danced with a blonde in a dress of spun silk and a pair of glass slippers, enraptured by her, and Hermione sighed in defeat. __

_ So that's why Stepmother let me come along. She knew no one would want to dance with me. _

Hermione’s heart broke when she realised she was unwanted,  _ unloved _ . Her intrusive thoughts led her out of the castle and towards the dark forest on the edge of the property. Tears wet her face as she slipped into the forest, unseen and unheard. She didn’t bother wiping them away. 

The low branches snagged on her blood-red dress and tore it in several places. Still, she traipsed on with no destination in mind. The wind whistled as it blew past, the foliage rustling above her head. The forest was cold, dark and gloomy; the perfect place for her and her thoughts. 

As she walked, she thought of all the things her stepfamily had done to make her suffer. There were the beatings, bruises, screams, high-pitched laughs, terror that rose in her chest every time she was called, insults, jeers, and torture. And finally, the public rejection she’d witnessed tonight. All because of the scars on her face.

Hermione fell to her knees near an oak tree, sobbing pitifully. Her heart hurt with the treatment she had been given by people she wouldn’t even see twice. It still hurt, though. She still needed love and affection, and most of all,  _ acceptance _ . All her books had happy endings, so why couldn’t  _ she _ ? She’d been denied these things for so long that she didn’t even remember feeling any positive emotions. 

She was still crying when she felt a pair of eyes trained on her. It’s a universal feeling when someone is watching. People had stared at her at the ball, and that had made her uncomfortable. But who would be staring at her in the forest? 

She turned her head, she found a big pair of tawny eyes in the bushes. “Hello? Is anyone there?” 

The eyes blinked and then disappeared. Hermione waited for the creature to appear again, but it didn’t. She shrugged it off, deciding to keep going. She knew she wasn’t going back to the house soon. Her stepfamily would gloat the moment they saw her. Hermione wasn’t ready for that. She dusted herself off and started walking. 

Her thighs cramped, but she kept on her track. For some unknown reason, Hermione didn’t feel unsafe in the forest. The forest was supposed to be a dangerous place where creatures of the night lurked, waiting for their prey to happen upon them. But Hermione felt safer than she'd ever felt before. 

The pair of eyes watched her closely, the leaves rustling as the creature followed her sedately. 

When she was deep within the forest, Hermione sat down to think. Her long walk had rid her of her depressing thoughts, and now that she was in control of her emotions again, she decided to use her knowledge to find a way out of the forest. Hermione remembered reading in a book that in case someone ever got lost, they should follow the sound of water to the source, as where there was water, there was often a village or town nearby. 

She closed her eyes and breathed quietly, listening to the forest. An owl hooted on a tree somewhere to her left, a few crickets chirped noisily behind her, the leaves rustled overhead, and... Was that the sound of  _ water _ running downstream? Triumphantly, her eyes snapped open. 

She cried out with fear when she saw a large wolf standing barely ten feet away. Its large canine teeth shone in the moonlight, its red eyes glinting deviously. Its fur was pitch black, and it was even taller than Hermione! 

She stumbled backwards and almost fell over in fright. The wolf tensed and growled menacingly at her. Hermione’s shoulders stiffened at the dark and sinister sound. Her heart thundered while her hands went ice-cold. The wolf smelt her terror and crouched, ready to pounce. 

Hermione’s stomach filled with lead at the sight of the imminent attack. But she wasn’t going to back down without a fight. Taking a calming breath in, she put her hands up in front of her, placatingly. The wolf cocked its head as it stared at her for a few moments. Hermione stepped closer to the wolf, having noticed a large stick near its paws. Now, if only she could get to that stick... 

A twig snapped to Hermione’s right, and the wolf’s head whipped towards the intruder. A large burly man stepped out of the shadows and growled ferociously at the wolf. But Hermione took the opportunity to lunge for the stick. The sudden motion surprised the wolf, and it reared its paws up to claw at the young woman beneath him. 

At that moment, two things happened. 

Hermione picked up the stick and swung it with as much force as she could muster, whacking the wolf’s snout with a loud thud. The stranger, on the other hand, attacked the wolf with his bare hands! The wolf and the man fought while Hermione watched with utter disbelief. It was awe-inspiring! 

The man yanked on the wolf’s fur while the wolf clawed at the man’s back. They rolled around on the soft grass, trying to pin the other down in their battle for dominance. When the wolf bit the man’s shoulder, the latter didn’t even flinch. Instead, in one swift motion, the man severed the wolf’s head. 

Hermione gagged at the bloody sight, her heart pulsing in her throat. The blood rushed into her ears, tremors wracking through her body. Her breathing came out in shaky wisps. She had so many questions! Who was the man? What was he doing in the forest? Why had he killed the wolf? How on earth was he so powerful? Had he been following her? Were those his eyes she’d sensed throughout her walk? And the most important one of all: was he going to kill her?

Turning towards Hermione, he gently raised his hands, like one would at a frightened cub. “It’s okay, girlie. I won’t hurt you. Don’t panic, okay?” 

“I’m not panicking,” she said, clearly panicking. 

The man snorted at her claim, slowly inching towards her. “I’m not gonna hurt you, sweetling... I just want to check you over. See if you’ve hurt yourself. That’s all,” he murmured, shaking out his brown hair from his face. 

Although she’d been warned about stranger-danger by her late father, for some reason, the man’s voice comforted her, and she allowed him to move closer. He bent down and gently scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to a tree that had toppled over in their skirmish, placing her on top of it after making sure it wasn’t dirty. “Now, lemme look at your hands, little dove.” 

Taking her hands in his, he inspected them for wounds and injuries. He ripped off his sleeve and wrapped it around her bleeding palm, something she hadn’t noticed.  _ I must have gotten hurt after I hit the wolf. _ Hermione glanced at his shoulder. “Looks like you need the cloth a lot more than I do...” 

The man looked at her, surprised she’d finally spoken. He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, ducky! No, it’s fine. I’ll heal soon. It’s  _ you _ who could get an infection... Now, why on earth would you think it a good idea to get lost in the forest on a night like this?” 

“A night like what?”

“Don’t you know what night it is, girly? It’s a full moon.” 

Hermione gazed up at the moon thoughtfully. “So it is... What’s wrong with it being a full moon? That’s what I meant.” 

The man gawped at her for a few moments. “You don’t know, do you?” Clearing his throat, he explained, “A full moon means werewolves hunting in the forest all night long. Means they’re at their strongest.” 

Hermione scoffed. “Werewolves aren’t real! That’s just imaginary—stories to scare kids!” 

The man snickered, turning his head towards the corpse of the wolf. “Then how do you explain  _ that? _ ” 

Hermione shrieked with horror when she saw that instead of a wolf’s body, a corpse of a headless man lay there. His head was nearby, his scruffy blonde hair matted with blood. This time, Hermione couldn’t stop herself from throwing up. The man jumped out of the way just in time. “Sorry, I should have warned you instead of gloating,” he murmured. 

Hermione scowled up at him and surreptitiously peeked at the morbid scene. Grimacing and shivering, she tried to take deep breaths. Finally, she asked, “How is this real? How can werewolves even exist? Why don't books have this listed as a fact? Are you going to kill me too for seeing this? How are you so strong?” 

The man put his hand up to silence her. “I’ll answer your questions, but first, we need to get somewhere safe. It’s not safe around here tonight.” 

Hermione processed her thoughts and feelings quickly. Her head told her that this man was dangerous, but her heart said he would keep her safe. Her head reminded her that this was a stranger, while her heart decided he wasn’t going to hurt her because if he’d wanted to hurt her, he’d have done it already. After all, the man had killed a werewolf right in front of her! 

She was a logical creature, so she asked the man his name. The man bowed and replied, “The name’s Fenrir. Alpha of the werewolf pack that dwells in this forest. And you are?” 

Hermione paled at his words and squeaked out, “ _ You’re _ the Alpha? Doesn’t that mean you’re the  _ leader _ ? B-but... you just  _ killed _ a werewolf! And  _ you _ said it’s a full moon tonight which means shouldn’t  _ you _ be a werewolf right now? Oh, and... I’m Hermione.” 

Fenrir smiled at her wolfishly. “I’m the Alpha, sweetheart. I can change at will. I  _ was _ in my werewolf form, but... I noticed you needed a bit of help.” 

“I  _ did _ hit him with the stick. I was fine!” 

“You did get ‘im proper, you did! A brilliant and stupid move, by the way.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Fenrir’s grin widened. “That there was a rogue werewolf, honey. Hitting ‘im in the face was just going to make ‘im even more delighted to gobble you up! If he’d been a normal wolf, you’d have sent ‘im running off with ‘is tail between ‘is legs.” Hermione paled considerably. “It’s a mighty fine thing I came along, your knight in shinin’ armour, my lady.” He bowed low at the waist, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Come along now, honey. I’ll keep you safe.” 

Trusting her gut, Hermione followed him through the forest to a little cabin built on the bank of a narrow stream. “Come on in,” Fenrir called from the doorway. 

Hermione stepped inside the house and immediately fell in love with it despite its rustic nature.  _ It has a certain charm to it.  _

The walls were a soft cream, the floors made of hardwood. To her immediate left was a small kitchenette, to her right a tiny living room with a couch in the corner and a table in the middle. 

Telling her he’d be right back, Fenrir went to get a first-aid kit. He left for the toilet, bandaged himself up for  _ her _ sake more than his, and came back to see Hermione looking around the room with wonder. 

“You like it?” He’d built this place a long time ago for himself. His pack wasn’t allowed here as this was his sanctuary. He didn’t know why he’d brought her here, but his gut told him it was the right decision. When Hermione nodded excitedly, his gaze softened and roved over her lithe form. 

She was short and looked downright starved. The scars on her face didn’t scare him; they proved that she’d survived something terrible. Despite that, he was furious at the thought of someone hurting this girl. He unclenched his jaw and gave her a shaky smile. "Thanks," he murmured. 

She looked up at him confused from where she was inspecting the shelf. 

"I built this place," he explained. 

Hermione’s eyes widened and she cried out, "That’s amazing! You’re so talented! Do you live here? In the middle of the forest?" 

Fenrir chuckled as she started asking him a million questions. He teased, "Do you ever  _ breathe _ between your questions?" 

Hermione’s cheeks reddened at the teasing remark. She retorted, "No, not really. I faint sometimes because of question-overdose." 

Fenrir guffawed loudly and shook his head. "You’re a strange one, aren’t you?"

"No more strange than you, Mr Alpha."

Fenrir’s shoulders shook as he laughed heartily. "Touche, Red." Sitting on the couch, he motioned for her to sit beside him. He bandaged her hand after applying ointment. Then, he threw his arm around the back of the couch. "Okay, shoot. One question at a time." 

Hermione opened her mouth but then paused. She nibbled on her lip, deciding to ask the one question plaguing her mind ever since he'd ripped off that wolf’s head. "Were you following me?"

Fenrir hadn’t been expecting that question and blushed. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and muttered, "Kinda... You were walking in the forest  _ alone _ on a full-moon night, girlie. I thought you shouldn’t be alone out there…"

Hermione looked down at her hands and murmured, "I felt safe in the forest because of you. Those golden eyes were yours, right?" 

Fenrir nodded in answer, still feeling a bit awkward. 

Hermione said, "Okay, tell me about werewolves, please." 

Fenrir started talking about his pack of wolves. He told her about being changed as a kid and having to fight for the title of Alpha when the pack was in danger of being killed by the Royal Guard. He told her how most people thought werewolves were illiterate and poor but the pack was very civilised as compared to the others. He told her about the rogue wolf and how he'd decided to go off hunting on his own, which was why his eyes had been red instead of the usual golden. He told her about pack dynamics and the responsibilities of being the Alpha. 

When she asked him why she hadn’t known werewolves were real, he frowned and answered honestly that he didn’t know. He'd assumed everyone knew about werewolves living in the forest. Now that Hermione had prompted him for his story, he couldn’t hold himself back from telling her the nitty, gritty details. 

In turn, she told him about the abuse she'd been dealt with for the past eleven years. She told him about her stepfamily and her living quarters. She was ashamed about the scars but seeing the ferocious protectiveness on Fenrir's face, she admitted she felt unloved. 

And when Hermione broke down for the first time, Fenrir held her through her tears and hiccups. He didn’t tell her it was okay—because they both knew it wasn’t. He simply rubbed her back, ran his fingers through her curls, and waited for her to compose herself. 

_ She's incredibly brave to have gone through so much with no one to support her. _

She pulled away after a few minutes. "Sorry I dirtied your shirt." 

Fenrir chuckled. "It’s okay, ducky... It’s already dirty, anyway. What’s a lil’ bit of snot gonna do?"

Hermione shook her head shyly. Fenrir smiled and thought, ‘ _ Who knew this full moon would bring such a change to my life?’ _

Not only had he killed the rogue wolf that had been threatening the safety of his pack, but he'd met  _ her _ , someone his wolf had an excellent feeling about. He could sense a potential mate in her. All he had to do was keep her here so that she could be his. Simple.

Their happily-ever-after was just beginning.


End file.
